


Well, we were always going to fail

by Kheta



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Gen, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Implied/Referenced Suicide, References to Depression, Slytherin Ron Weasley, Slytherins Being Slytherins, Supportive Weasley Family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-27
Updated: 2019-08-27
Packaged: 2020-09-27 16:33:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,806
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20410870
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kheta/pseuds/Kheta
Summary: Pansy wasn’t the most cunning person, for all she is a Slytherin at heart. But ambition, curiosity and patience she has aplenty. So when the enigma of a Slytherin Weasley occurs, of course she needed to know why. It was utterly fascinating. What he cared of, mattered very little to her.Or, Pansy’s never met anyone quite like Ron and she refuses to let up, even if it takes years for things to be right. (In other words, the snippet of Slytherin Ron and Pansy being not-bro-bros that you didn’t need but I still wanted to give.)





	Well, we were always going to fail

**Author's Note:**

> I like to call this, me fucking around because essays due soon, but also had this idea in my drafts for like a year and a half now, maybe longer. Also, I had an alternate title for this but it was pretentious and I liked the titular quote better anyways lol

_ Before, mostly _  
  
How utterly fascinating thought Pansy as the ginger Weasley made his way to their table in silence, the whole hall shaken to its core. His footsteps are hesitant, face oozing dread.

Ronald Weasley sat himself to the very end of the table, entirely alone, face red under the scrutiny of their hall. Not even McGonnagall spoke, though four more students had yet to be sorted. At the head table, Dumbledore looked very much like he was to break the silence, but a clamour at the Gryffindor table drew everyone’s attention. Sudden clapping rouses people into action as the three older Weasley boys stand where they were seated, hollering loudly for their little brother.

“Congratulations Ronald!”  
  
“GEDDIT RONNIE BOY! Do the rebellious Weasley’s proud!”

“Tch! Ronnie-kins had to go and make himself special didn’t he! We’re still cuter!”

Murmurs run around their hall, gazes narrowing, seas of faces frowning and grinning, half-hearted clapping coming from the Seventh and First year Slytherins and nowhere else on their large table.

Clapping curiously, Pansy watches this fascinating Weasley. So alike in looks to his brothers, with a manner that screamed brutish Gryffindor, sitting among the very kids who had been raised to despise him and all his family stood for. Turning to her left, away from the red-head, Pansy glanced around at all the first years so far, children she’d been raised with for the most part. She couldn’t help but feel dissatisfied, bored. Eleven years was rather enough of these trolls, right now she found there was only one interesting person in this whole school. Not Theodore Nott, who she had shared her first kiss with a few weeks back, or Draco Malfoy, the brother she has always wanted. Not even Harry Potter, Boy-Who-Lived. No, the most interesting person was Ronald Weasley. She couldn’t wait to unravel that mystery.  
  
_ 1st Year _

Pansy doesn’t go home during Christmas break, though all the girls in her dorm talk about finally being home, away from their teachers and the boys who hadn’t yet learned to mask their B.O properly. She doesn’t go home, though Draco invites her to stay the night at his during his family’s Christmas Ball. Doesn’t go when Vince asks her to be his date because his Ma’s being a right prat about his weight and the way no one will ever find him attractive if he kept to it. Not even for the chance to star-gaze with her friends at the Malfoy Manor like they had been for the past five years. They are her friends, even when Vince stays too quiet to argue against the second year girls who call Pansy pudgy or the fifth year girls who roll their eyes when she walks by. Even when Draco only talks to her seriously when its the old core group, her, Greg, Dray, Vince and Theo tucked into the corner of their common room playing exploding snap. They’re friends for sure, but her family is a sort of complicated Pansy doesn’t like to deal with and is glad to be able to choose not to deal with them.

Pansy is the youngest of five, which means it’s easy for her to be overlooked. Her sister just older than her, was in her Seventh year and did a pretty stellar job of convincing people that they hated each other, though up until two years ago Dahlia had allowed Pansy to cuddle up to her at night for no reason beyond wanting to sleep with her sister. Dahlia is quiet, with a gaggle of friends who talk for her and she is pretty, dainty, nothing like her awkward little sister. She’s also ridiculously sarcastic and barely ever talks to her these days, even though Pansy must walk all the way to the Ravenclaw towers just to ask after her.

To follow in her line of older siblings, there’s Damo, Poppy and Dante. A healer, a curse breaker and a ministry worker, with thirteen, eleven and eight years on her respectively. They’re all too old to relate to her and she too old to be coddled by them anymore. Family dinners always tended to be awkward, because Damo never shuts up about all the people he saves, emphasising that the blood quantums is a lie, incensing their traditional parents with his supposedly blood-traitor values. Poppy likes to talk about herself, likes to point out every flaw her family has, cuts into them with a merciless smirk and a fake ‘oh, but I just love you all the more for it’ at the end of each comment.

Dante is her favourite. Well, now that Dahlia is too cool for anyone, preferring to silently look around during family dinners, locking herself in her room when she’s excused from the table. He buys her quills, parchment papers and diaries everytime he comes home, always has an interesting story to tell about any idiot breaking the travel laws. 

They used to be close, when she was young, before being a Parkinson meant anything to her and most of her siblings. Now it’s too hard to sit comfortably with her family, so she opts out. 

On the first day of break, she walks into the Great Hall alone, one of six students from the Slytherin house still at Hogwarts. Pansy had skipped breakfast that morning, tired for reasons unknown to her. Lunch in the Great Hall is a surprise then, she takes in the layout with excitement. 

The House banners had been taken down, only a quote with the school crest and motto remaining. One table sits where there were usually five, teachers and students from all houses eating together. Feeling cautious, Pansy looks up and down the table, looking for anyone to sit with. Two Slytherins were already there, Flint sitting between a Hufflepuff bird and her friend, then at the very end of the table, was Ronald. His brothers sat to his right and across from him, the twins and their friends chatting, the older prefect across from them with the Gryffindor captain to his left. 

Pansy had made half-hearted efforts to befriend the curious Weasley boy. All rebutted with cold stares and harsh laughter. Still, between Flint with his older friends or Ron, who while flanked with Gryffindors remained studiously quiet, she knew which choice to make. 

No one says anything as she sits right beside him.

“Do you mind?” He grouches, a fresh game of chess before him. She’d caught the tail-end of the eldest Weasley thoroughly crushing him.

Grabbing some soup and bread, she gave him a cool smile.

“Not particularly, no. Are you going to play another round?”

He glances at his brother, consumed in conversation with the eager captain. Ron shakes his head, so she takes the board, facing it to her.

“Pawn to E 4,” she enunciates clearly.  
  
Ron raises a disgruntled brow, before saying hesitantly, “Knight to H 7.”

Smirking, Pansy leans forward, geared for what she hopes to be a good game. She wasn’t the best at Chess, but she fared even worse at being alone.

_ 2nd Year _

“Pansy? Can you come out please? I really cannot get caught in here,” Ron whispered from outside.

Holding in a shaky sob, Pansy gulped, fingers clenched in the sleeves of her jumper. She shook her head furiously, willing her tears to abide as she glanced up.

“C’mon Pansy! You’ve been in here forever, Snape will kill us if we don’t make curfew!” Dray yelled.

Pansy wanted to be surprised that Draco had dared to look for her, much less go to Ron about it. But exhaustion and desolation hit her too much for anything more than a low sigh.

“J-just sod off! I want to be alone,” she bit out, arm raised to muffle the sound of another ensuing sob.

Of fecking course, the one time she needs alone time is the one time they even bother to talk. Every other day their fighting and cursing each other, playing pranks on each other that sent Prefects hiding from having to lecture them again. But here and now they play nice, as if she wanted either of them around.

Well, Ron could keep his temper-tantrums to himself, be an aloof and cold loser. And Draco could pretend that all she is to him is some vapid bimbo. She didn’t need either of them, especially not now.

The door creaks loudly, the duo’s voices echoing louder in the abandoned washroom.

“Pansy, Theo’s not even worth it, get over i–Ow,” Ron groans.

Steps sound in the bathroom as Draco begins to speak, “Don’t listen to the Weasel, you don’t have to get over anything. Theo’s a prat anyway, and it’s not like you courted him seriously. Let him regret embarrassing you, you know he can’t take the heat of any insult.”

Pansy smiled to herself, a weak smile as the boys neared her stall, the shine of their freshly polished shoes peeking beneath the washroom stall. Privately, Pansy knew Theo wasn’t worth it, a mean, shrewd little boy who didn’t even have the confidence to tell her he didn’t like her to her face. Still, the embarrassment of receiving a talking rejection letter, on Valentine's no less, was too much to bare. The whole hall surely had seen it, watched her face reden, heard the letter call her a desperate hag, had seen the tears glisten down her cheeks like that of a whiny baby.

“That’s exactly what I just said!” Ron insisted, a rough jostling of shoulders accentuating his exclamation.

Dray doesn’t deign to answer him, but she can imagine the scathing look he sends the ginger’s way. Ron must answer the look with some form of shoving, because again she hears jostling and wiping her tears Pansy stands. Shoulders straightened, face dried if not red and breathing under-control, she barges from the stall just in time to hear Ron cry out and see a tell-tale glint of guilt on Draco’s face.

In the midst of their fight, wands had been drawn and bodies had been thrown. The trio glance up, watching as Ron’s frayed wand plummets from the air, dropping with a sound plop into the basin and down towards the bathroom pipes.

“My wand!”

With his face quickly turning red in anger, Pansy decides to extract the Weasley before anymore damage could be dealt.

“It’s fine Ron, Dray will buy you a replacement, won’t he?”

Draco looks firmly against the idea, going to argue with her, but the argument dies on his lips at her look. Tear-streaked, puffy, with the beginnings of acne making its way to her skin and her hair messily tied to keep from her face made Pansy a rather fearsome image. On a normal day Draco usually refused to argue with her, he’d rather not risk himself in this moment. To herself, Pansy could only nod in approval, both at Dray’s response and at the situation. She’d been trying to figure out a way to be done with that blasted wand anyway, it was not appropriate for any wizard to use a wand that hadn’t chosen them. Disgruntled but tired, the twelve-year-olds make their way back to their common room, shoulder to shoulder.

_ 3rd Year _

One of the pros of being the youngest child of any family, especially a wizarding family, is that there is nothing left to scare you after putting up with cruel older siblings. Pansy had been exposed to enough bugs, clowns and fake blood accidents to be unphased by any form of simple fear. It was live life in fear or become immune to it, by her tenth birthday she had chosen immunity. A good choice, she figured now.

Professor Lupin sat in front of the class against a desk, to his left was a tall, shaking cabinet.

“Today, we will be facing off a Boggart? Who knows what that is?”

Granger’s hand flies through the air, Pansy rolls her eyes at that, leaning in boredom against Greg. Any Pureblood raised properly would know what a Boggart is, heck any decent magick folk should know.

“We have one student, anymore?” A few people nodded, she continued to stare forward, not caring either way.

“Great, about a third of you. Okay, so the Boggart, is simply a creature with the ability to manifest into your greatest fear. I will demonstrate to you the charm needed to face a Boggart and if you feel like you can’t manage to say it, feel free to look to me for help and advice.”

The Professor then does as he said, facing a silver moon because apparently adults don’t have real fears. A string of students follow, notably Longbottom who dresses Snape in a rather ghastly pair of dress robes, Granger facing off a strict, disapproving McGonagall and turning her into a rather beautiful woman, who wore a strange puffy garment and had an infectious smile. Next comes Draco, who after seeing the wisps of his parents not fully formed, shouted the counter-charm out viciously, replacing the blonde haired duo with a comical painting of the duo, both dressed well, yet covered in hay and mud, a scene she remembers fondly from the one time they had pushed his parents to playing in the barn with them as children.

Pansy, still bored though, negs Ron to move forward. Ron, being the predictable idiot unable to say no to any challenge, strides forward with shuddering shoulders.

Unlike Draco, who was smart enough to quickly shout the charm out, Ron waits for the Boggart to fully form. It transforms into a large, hulking spider, with prickly looking legs and beady eyes. Pansy raises a brow, having not known of this fear of spiders.

Professor Lupin presses Ron gently to say the counter, but Ron remains frozen, eyes wide with fear and pallor pale. Around them other students murmur quietly, looking at each other in confusion and derision, silently pushing Ron to get on with it. Pansy tenses, standing straight and off of Greg for the first time since class started. C’mon Ron, she presses mentally, eyebrows furrowed. 

It’s Draco, surprisingly who breaks the near silence, voice loud, pushy, a jeer more than encouragement, “Well c’mon Weasel, if you can’t face an itty-bitty spider, how will you become an auror?”

Pansy slaps Dray softly, glaring at him. But he just glances purposefully back at Ron, whose shoulders had straightened.

Something about the comment had obviously calmed the pale Weasley down as he raises his wand, “Riddikulus!” 

The bulking spider shifted into Draco of all things, an acne ridden Draco, dressed in a clown suit, with the messy head of hair he truly had in the mornings, not his usual slicked back, neatly combed style that came following his shower.

It’s quiet for only a second, all Slytherin in disbelief, the Gryffindors confused. Then, not bothering to stifle her laughter, Pansy falls against Greg’s firm shoulder, chortling loudest of all at the sight, while Greg and Vince laughed behind their hands. Theo follows suit, howling with Blaise and all students, Slytherin and Gryffindor alike begin to laugh lowly, eyes bright with joy.

Ron winks at a scowling Draco as he struts back to the group. Pansy offers him a high-five when he comes to stand with their group, Draco pointedly looking at and very slowly away from them. Ron holds her hand for a second during the high-five, before abruptly pulling then pushing her to the front of the class.

She glares at the still laughing Slytherins, making her way to the center with a quiet confidence. If those two gits of hers could face off their biggest fears so easily, then Salazar himself, she could do it as well.

_ 4th Year _

Fear trapped itself into Pansy’s heart as she found Ron. He was on the other side of the ledger, sitting down against the outside wall, bright red hair stark against the edges of the window still. It could be a romantic scene, watching the stars at night dressed to the nines, but after their talk the other week she wasn’t too keen on being so high up. Especially not after she’d heard what Boot and Conner had said. Most especially with him sitting so carelessly outside of the castle, something he’d probably done before given that she hadn’t known there was a ledge large enough to sit on beneath the window.

“Ron, are you done, did you wanna come back to the feast with me? I’d really rather not have to watch my date pine on someone else without at least someone to insult him next to me.” Her voice is purposely light hearted and teasing.

He harrumphed and nodded, but didn’t move.

“Do you ever wonder what it would be like to fly?”

She forced a laugh, “In case you haven’t noticed Ron, we’re magick. We have brooms you know.”

Ron snorts at the answer, leaning back so his head touched the brick wall even as his feet dangled over the ledge. It was too scarily close to the edge for her liking, one misstep and he’d be gone, the git. 

“Not like that, like real flying. Just, being able to let go and fall or glide or float. To fly, y’know.” He muttered out.

Knuckles turned to a fist, she steps forward until she’s leaning next to his head, arms propped under her face as she too stares at the stars.

“I don’t think it matters that there are other ways to fly, if you can feel the wind against your skin and see the sun and sky, then you’re flying,” she says after a long pause.

He gives a pensive stare at that, but nods slowly as he looks somewhere further than she could see.

“Now, you finished with your philosophical wondering, or do we have to sit here until I starve to death?” She prods lightly.

Giving a short sigh, Ron turns around and takes her offered hand as he clamours through the window, maroon robes wrinkled.

They walk back to the Ball together, joking lightly as they move along.

_5th Year _

Pansy’s usually better at controlling her temper, but some reluctant part of her had found herself missing the stupid Weasley. Stupid Weasley she liked that is, not the other ones. Missing the way he’d pipe up something stupid in Runes, or how angry she’d get when he’d always managed to get an O on the practical applications of Transfiguration though his theory was barking useless. As it was, Ron hadn’t really talked to her since term started and she was getting sick of it.

They still joked about and talked in class when she managed to squeeze next to him, but he was usually firmly seated by Theo or Blaise, who frankly didn’t care much about Ron.

It’s not even supposed to be that big of an argument. They fight a lot. About stupid stuff, like how utterly horrible the Canons are. About important stuff, like him being keen for that muggle-born from Gryffindor and her blatant disapproval. But it does end up being a big argument. Somehow one of them starts shouting and neither back down. It’s a toss and turn of reluctant excuses and harsh accusations. He keeps denying he’s pulling away in his own roundabout way and she’s pressing forward persistently, much to his annoyance.

It culminates like so.

“What did I do wrong!” She screamed, less question and more demand.

Fuming, Ron rounded up on her with an anger she had never known him to possess. His face was a violent shade of red and not incredibly attractive, she thought.

“NOTHING!” He screamed, arms waving wildly.

“YOU DID NOTHING PANSY!” It took a second for his breathing to even out as he stepped forward some, forcing her to move back, “I needed you Pansy! I needed someone and you let me hope it would be you. You become close to me, you wanted to be my friend and I trusted you! But you did nothing, you said nothing! You let me sit and stew and worry alone Pansy!”

A sudden spike of hurt clouded Pansy, though she was usually mild-mannered or subtly insulting, now she only wished to confess her hurt. To let him know what he did to her.

“What did you want me to do?” She begged him, face to face and uncaring of how loud and honest they were being. So very unlike her usually cautious nature.

“Did you want me to stay with you every waking hour knowing what you were doing to yourself? Should I have stayed when you looked like rubbish and watched you self-destruct because you were too stupid to accept the help I tried to give you!”

“Help? Fecking lot of good you did helping me now! Calling me crazy and stupid and walking away when I refuse to listen to you talk to me like that?”

“Being suicidal_ is _ fucking crazy and stupid, you idiot!” She screamed.

Because he couldn’t see how damned worried she was about him, how she couldn’t be the only one to try and help him if he kept ignoring the problem like he always did.

A sudden intake of breath interrupted the cloud of indignity she felt as her words registered. Ron was suddenly pale faced, lost was his anger and replaced with very visible betrayal.

She looked around and a torrent of guilt hit her. They weren’t alone. Of course they weren’t bloody alone, they had started this argument outside of the Great Hall. Trailing around her were a few students, no more than twenty of different ages and houses, but there right behind her were Ron’s siblings. The twins, solemn faced, eyes dark, holding Ginny back as her body language screamed anger.

“Ron– I didn’t...”

Oh shit, was all she thought.

“Fuck you Pansy, not only are you a liar, but now you can add a back-stabber to your long lists of achievements.” The comment was hoarse, sarcasm so thick she could feel it.

She should feel anger, if not at him then at what he said about her. But she only felt the guilt crush her as she too stormed away. What the hell had she done?

_ 6th Year _

He didn’t speak to her all year, though she knew he was still furious with her. It was easy to discern his anger in the fact that he only glared at her. Never said a word, never spared her a glance in any of their shared classes. Pansy had sat next to him during the first Ancient Runes class and he had abruptly moved. And did the same for the next two classes until he finally settled for coming in later than her and pairing up with the stupid Cornfoot boy.

In fact, Pansy thought taking a seat next to Ron, this was the first time she had truly seen him all year. He looked alright, for all the commotion she’d been privy to. It had been an accident apparently, he’d gone after Draco at the same time as Potter and it had been him who was hurt, the one who had never cared much for either of the two. For that, she was livid.

Draco had been testing her all year. First with his secrets, next with his mood swings and finally, with this. They had been best friends since they were in nappies, her and Dray, but he was stupid, reckless and ignorant. Had always tried to shoulder any burden, from taking her sister’s blatant disapproval of her entire being off her mind with ridiculous stunts, to taking the falls for things that would make her parents furious but his only mildly bemused. He was spoilt and for that, he never thought much of consequences. Pansy wanted to kill him for that trait. She wasn’t stupid, contrary to what Dray had obviously convinced himself. It was clear as a day, he was a Death Eater but he didn’t want to be one. Which made sense, for all he believed in the cause, he was always a little less willing to hurt others. Of the two Pansy was always that little bit more vindictive, who focused on revenge when Dray was all impulsive rage or condescension. Pansy was always the unrelenting and spiteful one.

“Whurm fuger,” Ron uttered flipping on his side, distracting her from her building rage.

Sighing, Pansy leant forward, swiping his unruly hair from his face so she could feel his forehead as her eldest brother so often did to her when she was younger. He was cold and sweaty, but she knew better than to cast a warming charm on him. Her charms weren’t too good and the sudden change of temperature could be detrimental.

Moving, she gathered a blanket and replaced the sweaty damp one he had. Content, she pulled out her homework distracting herself for a further twenty minutes, until a noise once again disrupted her. She looked up and saw one of the sources of her consternation. Stupid golden Potter with his pretty green eyes.

“Hi,” he said awkwardly.

She glared in response as he dared to move forward, holding some flowers in his hands.

“I came to apologise,” he said to her.

“How very generous of the Golden Potter, coming to give apologies where they’re due. One would mistake you for mere mortal if you continue like so,” she snapped.

He grew angry at her obvious provocation, “Tch it’s not like he didn’t deserve it, what was he doing following Malfoy in the first place?”

The accusation made her blood run fiercely as the true reason for him visiting became known.

“He didn’t deserve it!” She howled, taking the flowers he’d laid on the bedside and pelting him with it.

“Ron doesn’t deserve any of the shite people put him through! He especially doesn’t deserve to be put in the infirmary because you’re too bloody obsessed with Draco to see that he is just a kid! That we are all just children before we’re Slytherin or Gryffindor! That before petty rivalries we are kids who are in over their heads and bloody terrified and worried!”

Potter said nothing, probably being the first time anyone had ever bothered chastising him. Still not done being angry, Pansy kept pelting him with both her words and his flowers 

“What was Ron doing following Draco? Who cares! That is his business, not yours! So you know what Potter, take your false apologies and shitty interrogations to some other twat!”

Standing angrily, Potter took the flowers from her hands and slammed them on the bedside table again, before walking out.

A sudden snort made itself known when he’d gone from view. She looked down at Ron, who had managed to sit at some point during the confrontation, smarmy grin on hand.

“You just pelted Harry Potter with flowers," his voice had a derisive lilt to it, reluctantly impressed.

“You’re talking to me?” She asked brow raised.

Grinning up at her, he shook his head in disbelief.

“I have to now, you just insulted the Saviour of Britain for me. What better apology could I have asked for?” he says bright eyed.

Pansy gives him a brief smile, knowing that for now he meant it. They’d probably kill each other in a week, but today he had forgiven her and that’s enough.

_ 7th Year _

She stopped abruptly as he came into view. He was crumpled over, arm covering his stomach where no doubt a large cut had formed. There was no nice way of saying he looked like shit, but the longer she looked at him slowly piece himself together, the more it clicked in her head that this wasn’t the first time he’d been hurt this badly. It suddenly struck Pansy that she never saw Ron anymore, only in Muggle-Studies where he was always quiet, as if reverting to his first year self. Even in Defense, he was usually drawn away by the Carrows. Drawn away for this, she deduced rather quickly. Deciding rather hurriedly that she was angry with Ron, she hit him with a quick petrification hex, before charming and levitating him to her room. There was a time Pansy was at ease in the boys room, but with Draco being unbearably thin and rattled, Gregory spending nearly every minute spouting about topping himself or vanishing to the bathroom and Vincent trying so hard to hold himself together, being there had lost its appeal.

When they reached her bed, she spelled his jersey into a hanky, threw that to the ground and set about fixing himself up as best as possible. When she’d stopped the bleeding at his chest without a word of protest, she realised a bit too late that he was still frozen solid.

“Sorry,” she muttered releasing her hex.

He came to life with a groan, “Merlin Pans, give a guy a warning ah.”

She rolled her eyes, “I’d say you look like shite, but frankly I’ve seen dragon dung more attractive than you,” was her subtle way of asking why he was in this state.

“I’d say the same about you, but I’m scared you’d make my face look worse than it is, something I wasn’t sure anyone could do until now,” he quipped back.

She snorted, “Haven’t seen you much,” was her casual exclamation.

“Haven’t been around much, been busy,” he winces as he realises too late the opportunity he’d given her.

“Oh busy? With what? We have minimal homework and no clubs anymore, in fact I’m quite bored. Please do share what you do to take away the boredom.” The crisp delivery is a sign that he is walking on very thin ice.

“Just family things with Gin.”

She glares at that, purposely pressing her wand near a wound below his pecs as she mutters a weak stitching charm. Charms still weren’t her forte, but this year has proven unexpected advances for many in a wide array of fields.

He sighed, “Look Pans, things are rough. For everyone. I don’t need you to do something stupid for me, I can do that by myself,” was his vague explanation.

Frowning, she wet the jersey-hanky and set about cleaning the blood on his chest as roughly as she can without reopening them. He winced when she neared his ribs and she groaned, external wounds she could heal. Internal? Not so much. Those were always a struggle, but she could do those as well. It just took time.

She thanked her stupid brother for all the text books and lectures he was prone to giving.

“Then at least come to me to get patched up you, my brother’s a healer in case you’ve forgotten. I might be rubbish at healing charms, but I’m a fair bit better than you, you git.”

Ron chuckled at that, before wincing, to her immense satisfaction. Git.

“Pans,” he starts quietly, using the voice that led them to argue most of the time “D’ya figure we’ll make it through this shitty year...Because I’m–I’m not sure I can,” he states with doubts aplenty.

Wrenching her eyes close, Pansy takes a breath and moves her fingers until they were strung together.

“I don’t know and that bloody terrifies me, but we have to Ron. We have to survive, life can’t be this. There’s got to be more,” she said fiercely.

“Pans,” Ron said before closing his mouth and pressing a delicate kiss against her lips.

She looks up into Ron’s delicate blue eyes, the way they seem dark and dreary lately had hurt her, confused her, made her angry beyond belief. But now, they merely glimmer with affection and the need to do something that wasn’t totally abhorrent. 

Ron was her only friend Pansy realised. Draco had changed and she’d pushed him away a long while ago. Her and the girls were never beyond the pleasantries bit of friendship. Vincent and Gregory hated themselves too much to even think of her. Theo a coward and Blaise an asshole.

But Ron, Ron had always fascinated her, so she leaned forward until their lips meet again, fingers leaving to trail into his hair and to hold him against her. To feel his warmth. She didn’t love him, couldn’t imagine marrying him or having kids with him even if she couldn’t imagine a life without him being around. If anything, he was just her best friend. But right now, he needed her touch and she. She had always needed Ron’s attention. So she didn’t shy away from his touch. He was Ronald Weasley, Slytherin, enigma and best friend. This is enough for her.

_ After the Hogwarts Battle, following Voldemort’s defeat. _

Ron says nothing as he sits next to Draco. They had hated each other for the better part of seven years, but in one thing they had always agreed upon. Being civil for Pansy.

“She would have married a great bloke. He would cater to her every whim and she’d have absolutely love it,” Ron wheezes gazing at her still body.

Her hair fell simply to her sides of her angular cheeks and for all she was dead, she looked asleep. Grey and asleep, but asleep looking all the same. They had cleared the blood of her forehead from a nasty hex, somehow in the tussle she’d not managed to get as injured or dirty as others. One minor injury and a killing curse. 

To Godric Ron was furious as he looked at her.

“Why’d she need to marry anyone when she has us for that? Merlin knows she’d never needed a boyfriend to do anything for her when she had us.” Draco sniped.

He snorted, “Oh please, you spoiled her rotten and gave in to all her stupid little whims. I’d at least try to say no.”

Draco tried a snort but it came out a few notes too watery as he replied, “Pfft, I could do no less for her, she just liked you more than me, otherwise you’d have found out why people don’t say no to Pansy.”

The silence reigned as they looked at her.

“Merlin she was a pain, but I already fucking miss her,” Ron admitted clenching his fist.

Draco nodded, then laid an arm on his shoulder, before throwing their stupid rivalry to hell and hugging the Weasley. 

“I feel like a giant prat, I never even said goodbye. I never told her how much I loved her,” Draco said into Ron’s shoulder.

“I miss her, I’m sorry,” was all Ron could say in reply.

And they held each other for only a brief period, before backing away and looking at Pansy Parkinson. They’d lost many tonight, friends, strangers. But this loss they shared. This loss they mourned together. In this loss only, they understood each other and grew.

**Author's Note:**

> Umm. Idek. 
> 
> Anyways, scenes I wanted to add but didn't bc too long:
> 
> Pansy catching Ron either self-harming or finding one of his suicide notes, which led to their argument in fifth year. 
> 
> Draco changing Weasel to Ron in fifth year after getting closer to him due to finally having worn each other down with five years of cohabitation. 
> 
> Harry being super close to Fred, George and Percy, with Percy being the one who drives and picks Harry up in second year and being locked from Platform 9 and ¾’s with him, but just owling McGonagall to pick them up bc he’s Percy and he’s already broken enough rules getting Harry, he’d die before breaking more. 
> 
> Ron still having a major crush on Hermione circa fourth year and Pansy disapproving greatly. Both because Muggleborn and like. Hermione?
> 
> Ron joining the D.A in seventh year, helping Seamus head it while Neville, Harry and Hermione hunt horcruxes. 
> 
> Pansy and Ron bemoaning their older siblings as a means to get closer, also realising Dante and Percy work with each other and talk major shit about each other, despite proclaiming to respect one another. 
> 
> Goyle, Crabbe, Theodore, Draco and Pansy laughing with each other over rumours of Pansy being a whore, because none of them would ever dream of sleeping with each other because like. Friends since nappies. 
> 
> Draco boasting to the core five about losing his virginity, and Ron walking-by all scandalised bc. Why would you brag about that to your female friend? Pansy proceeding to recount in detail her sexual exploits until he flees the room with red cheeks, the remaining teens laughing loudly behind him. 
> 
> Hermione and Ron lowkey nearly being something in Sixth year, until paranoid Harry gets in her head and she stops tutoring Ron in potions, despite having tutored him since fourth year (at the insistence of both Percy and Ginny, who wanted their brother to do well in school in Percy’s case and to get more than one friend, in Ginny’s case)
> 
> Dean being pretty good bros with Ron bc they bonded when him and Ginny went out. Bc Dean is just that nice and Ron is used to people saying nothing when he glares at them, not continuing to chat. 
> 
> Draco nearly murdering Ron when he finds out that Ron is actually good at Quidditch and not just a watch it fan. Like, 3 years they’d been losing to Gryffindor and Ron doesn’t mention he’s a ridiculously good player? Ron will needle Draco endlessly when this is mentioned like “oh I wasn’t gonna join, till Malfoy begged me, told me I was the greatest keeper Slytherin had ever seen he reckons”
> 
> Pansy finally staying at the Burrow in Sixth year, after needling Ron since just before the summer of second year. (Ron only asking bc Hermione will be there and he wants to make her jealous. ) Molly and Arthur assuming they’re dating and making sure Hermione and Ginny are with them so they don’t do anything and Pansy delighting in making Hermione jealous and Ron uncomfortable. (She wants to owl Draco about all this, because he’ll find it just as funny, but he’s not really in her life at this stage)  
  
Percy still being disowned, but because he absolutely hates Dumbledore like. He’s been going to him for years to ask to have Harry taken away from the Dursleys and nothing happens, then when he tries to go to the Ministry about it, as a Ministry worker, his concerns are pushed to the side bc of ‘higher ups.’ So no, he will not support his parents and this resurgence of the Order. His parents, Bill and Ginny won’t talk to him, Fred and George won’t bc childish Percy came through and told them he doesn’t need failures like them in his life and Harry tries to talk to Percy, but Percy just won’t change his stance on Dumbledore being crazy and his parents being idiots to help him and with Dumbledore being the one to help Harry post-Cedric, added with the Weasley’s still being his second family, it just gets easier to not write Percy. Ron meets up with his brother for lunch on two occasions, but just bc Percy and the twins were always supportive of him so he feels obliged to, him and Perce aren’t too close in all honesty. Charlie doesn’t hear the full extent of things until Bill’s wedding.  
  
I’m trying to think of a way that Sirius still escapes Azkaban and Pettigrew is caught, but honestly can’t be bothered. Just assume it happens, but like Harry isn’t involved until Lupin figures out the truth about Scabbers and introduces Sirius and Harry.  
  
Harry and Ron will probably become drinking buddies, then actual friends when they become aurors, bonding over insulting Draco, teasing Hermione and Ginny and groaning about whatever training they received bc these two are very good at wandwork, but have the smallest array of knowledge concerning curses, hexes and charms, so their trainers are very hard on them.


End file.
